


Of Warm Drinks and Nice Music

by jumpforjo



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Slash, hipster AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpforjo/pseuds/jumpforjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with Bombur's coffee shop. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Warm Drinks and Nice Music

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 2nd fic here, and I'm not sure how long it shall be. Please tell me your thoughts!
> 
> I saw a prompt by 8611 fic and I couldn't resist. (I'll link it at the end because I sort of strayed away from it.)
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Jo

  
  
They were a happy if not mismatched bunch. If one person joined the group, they brought siblings, and the siblings would bring cousins, it was inevitable.  
  
It all started with Bombur’s coffee shop. Really, he just wanted an excuse to cook without the pressure of a full blown restaurant. Naturally, he recruited his brother Bofur and cousin Bifur to help him out. Bombur did the cooking, Bifur was able to handle drinks, and Bofur wasn’t allowed near either except for serving it.  
  
Soon enough, they started to have regulars, and Bofur being friendly the way he was, the three made good friends with Nori who started bringing his brothers Ori and Dori about. Dori would settle into one of the couches, peering up from his knitting to add to a conversation and Ori would take a spot next to him with a ratty moleskin notebook that no one had ever seen the inside of but him. He said he was writing touching stories and deep philosophical musings, but Bofur had his own ideas.  
  
Ori was friends with a professor at the local university, Balin, who came in once and judged the food and drink to be superb. Needless to say, he started bringing his papers to the shop for grading and somehow began to mesh into their group as well. After several weeks, his brother, Dwalin, came in, not believing that Bombur made the best rolls in town. He was proved wrong.  
  
Through Dwalin and Balin, their cousins, Oin and Gloin, started coming in. They were a bit more reserved, but good food was enough to make anyone stick around. They were a merry bunch, and hung around the shop for months before Bombur gave in to Bofur’s constant whining for music in the shop.  
  
A few odd chaps came in with ukuleles, guitars, harmonicas. Even Bofur himself played his flute some days. The customers enjoyed it, so they extended it to Friday nights as well. Their first friday was getting no sign ups, and Bofur was getting ready to perform himself if no one answered the ad.  
  
Friday morning, his email pinged, looking at it, he grinned, “We have a performer!” he exclaimed to the group. The made interested noises, Balin finally tilted his head, “You going to tell us who it is, or shall it be a surprise?” Bofur looked back at the screen, shrugging, “Doesn’t give a name. Says he’s a one man bad, call himself Dwarfsong. But I’ll take it.”  
  
The day was spent normally, Dwalin and Nori moving tables around to make a stage like area for the night’s performer. About two hours ahead of the performance time, a man with long, somewhat tangled black hair with silver streaks entered, scoping the area. Finally, he looked up to those around the shop, “Bofur?” he asked cautiously. The hatted man popped up from behind the counter, trying to fix some jammed mechanical thing before he was blamed for it, “That’d be me!”  
  
He held out his hand to the musician who walked in further to take it, “Thorin Oakenshield. I’ll be performing tonight, correct?” Bofur grinned, “Absolutely, sir! Feel free to set yourself up however you like. We can’t pay you, but you can have some free food and drink.” He said with a smile. The man nodded solemnly, going to inspect the cleared area.  
  
After a brief examination, Thorin pulled up a chair to a good position, nodding to himself when he determined it to be satisfactory. He carefully unstrapped his guitar, hanging it by the same strap on the chair. “Free food, you said?” he asked, approaching the counter. “Of course! What would you like?” Bofur asked, Thorin raised an eyebrow, unsure of what to get from the extensive collection in the glass case, not to mention the menu items of soups and sandwiches.  
  
“Get a roll! Best in town, I tell you. Bombur is one hell of a cook,” Dwalin spoke up from the table at which he was now playing some card game with Nori and Oin. Thorin turned back, “I guess I’ll take a roll? And, ah, black bean soup would be nice.”  
  
“Coming right up, Master Thorin,” Bofur replied with a grin, rummaging to gather the items. As he did so, the bell on the door run, and a frazzled seem blond man entered. His eyes landed on Balin, body visibly relaxing in relief, “Lobelia, said you’d be here, but she’s a bit of a nasty type, thank goodness, would you please go over my paper with me?” He asked, and Balin smiled kindly.  
  
Since he spent more time at the shop than the university, he advised his students to seek him out here rather than his office, so the others were well used to frantic college students bursting in, a bit panicked over this or that. “Of course, Bilbo, of course. Come, bring it here.” he said and the short man brought it over, standing awkwardly across the table, “You may sit, if you like. Would you like a cup of tea?”  
  
“Oh! No, I don’t have any money on me, and I don’t wish to trouble you.” Balin waved a dismissive hand, “Bofur, would you get Bilbo some tea?” Bofur grinned, “You have to help me clean up tonight,” Balin shook his head, laughing quietly, “Fine. By help, you mean you direct me around?”  
  
“Precisely!” Bofur answered, setting a cup in front of Bilbo. “Staying for the performance tonight?” He asked, and the man shook his head. “No, I have more homework to do, honestly.” Bofur shrugged, “Bring it here, lots of students do. Even Master Balin here does.” He responded, taking his place behind the counter to ring up a few customers who had arrived.  
  
After eating, Thorin pulled out his guitar, taking a seat to begin to tune, there was still another hour before performance. He ran a few chord progressions, singing little melodies to get the hang of the acoustics. “Amazing...” he murmured, the echo was just right, maybe it was the spot, but it was superb.  
  
“I play the flute, picked out the spot myself. Marvelous, isn’t it?” Bofur asked from the table he was wiping. Most of the others were convinced he had super hearing. Bofur would just shrug and continue whatever he was doing. “Flute? That’s interesting. Maybe we should work together sometime.” Thorin commented with his first smile since arriving, Bofur considered it a personal victory.  
  
Within half an hour two boys had entered, wide, mischievous grins on their faces that put Bofur a bit on edge. Bilbo glanced up, pleased surprise on his face. “Fili! Kili! Hello there, are you here to speak with Professor Balin as well?” He asked and they shook their heads, walking over to clap Thorin on the shoulder boisterously, the man directing not-so-subtle glares in their direction.  
  
“No! We’re here to watch our lovely uncle perform!” Fili answered,  Kili picking up his train of thought, “Are you staying? Uncle Thorin is the most talented man in the city.” He assured Bilbo who blushed just a bit, “No, I must be getting home soon, I have homework and studying...” he trailed off at the raised eyebrows he was receiving from the brothers. “Are you saying you’d rather do homework than watch our Uncle perform?” Kili asked, “That’ really hurts, Bilbo.” Fili added, shaking his head.  
  
“I- no! It’s not like that at all! Really! I just put off this paper! And studying!” Bilbo was flustered, now red and searching for words. Thorin tugged on his nephews’ ears, scowling, “Leave him alone, honestly, you two! Will you never grow out of your childish tomfoolery?” He chided with a glare. Both boys stared at the ground, embarrassed, “Sorry, uncle...” Fili answered.  
  
Bilbo left not long after, Thorin’s eyes trailing him out. The brothers noticed but said nothing, shrugging it off. They walked up to the counter and Bofur grinned, “What’ll you have?” he asked. “Have any good ales?” Kili asked, but Thorin shut him down almost immediately. “You have plenty of that at home. I won’t have you stumbling and drunk while I try to perform.”  
  
Kili glared for a moment, sighing, “Fine, do you have hot chocolate?” He asked and Bofur nodded, “Then I’ll have that as well,” Fili tagged on, pulling out money to purchase the drinks. More customers began to spill in about 15 minutes to showtime, and Bofur was lucky to have Ori helping him out.  
  
They managed to get all of the rush served and seated before Thorin took the stage. The pair high fived for a job well done, Ori making his way quietly over to the couch as Thorin prepared to speak, adjusting the guitar.  
  
“Hello. Thanks to all of you for joining me tonight. I hope you enjoy the music.” He said, taking a deep breath before strumming and beginning to sing. The audience was captivated, hanging onto every note that left the stage. A minute or so into the song, the door opened quietly, Bilbo slipping through, unnoticed by most of the audience besides Thorin who didn’t slip up beside the glare he threw at the blond.  
  
Kili followed his uncle’s gaze, giving a thumbs up to Bilbo that the man pretended not to see, blushing as he took a seat. Thorin’s set went for about an hour and a half, Bofur having to dig out another jar for tips to go beside the one Thorin himself had brought in. Though Thorin was solemn, the audience seemed receptive to the silence evoking performance.  
  
At the end, Thorin was practically mobbed, Fili and Kili fighting in to get their uncle a bit of personal space. A few people lingered, including Bilbo who was now buried in a book. As most of the crowd dissipated, Thorin made his way over. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s very rude to interrupt a performance?” He asked, and Bilbo’s head snapped up.  
  
“I’m sorry!” He squeaked, “Most start late, I tried to be quiet, nonetheless,” he answered, pink tinging his cheeks. “Don’t let it happen again.” Thorin spoke grudgingly, walking back over to swat Fili and Kili away from the tip money.  
  
“That’s a mighty fine guitar you have there, Master Thorin! Must have cost a good chunk of money.” Bofur commented. the brothers laughed quietly from where they’d been shooed off to. “I paid nothing for it. Made is myself from an oak tree in our back yard about 5 years ago.” He answered, a prideful grin on his face.  
  
Bilbo glanced up from his paper with wide eyes, “You made that? That’s amazing!” He commented, to which Thorin shrugged as if it was nothing, “Oh no, quite simple really.” He responded, fake modesty seething from the words. Everyone was eyeing the intricate designs carved into the handle.  
  
“I’d like to perform again next friday, if you’ll have me? I must say, this is the largest amount of tips I’ve ever received and this place is quite nice.” Bombur stepped out from the back for the first time since Thorin had arrived, “That sounds great! That’s the busiest we’ve been since starting up.” He said with a grin.  
  
Thorin nodded, “Then I will see you all next week. Fili, Kili, come, I’ll give you a ride home.” He beckoned the brothers. “Alright you two, I’ll see you Monday.” Dwalin said, smiling broadly and Thorin raised a single inquiring eyebrow, “For what, may I ask?” Both boys’ eyes went wide, “Er...” Before coming up with an excuse, Dwalin just gave a toothy grin, “They want matching tattoos!”  
  
“Too bad they won’t be getting any.” Thorin responded with a glare at the crestfallen brothers. They followed him through the door, waving at Bilbo on the way. Bofur turned to Balin as soon as the door shut, “Well come one then, get moving you sod!” Balin rolled his eyes, getting up to help Bofur clean up the vacated tables and give a hint to the customers still lingering to get out.  
  
Within the hour, everyone had drifted out, Bilbo exiting with a wave to Balin, and everyone else pretty much up and leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the official prompt:  
> http://8611fic.tumblr.com/post/39220751318/guys-guys-where-is-the-hobbit-hipster-au
> 
> Also, apologies for the shitty ending.  
> More to come soon, I hope!


End file.
